


Being Congenial

by JabberwockyLyric



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Courtship, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-01-04 04:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18336518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JabberwockyLyric/pseuds/JabberwockyLyric
Summary: Instead of angry shouts and sword duels, Raoul takes a more diplomatic approach when dealing with the Phantom of the Opera for Christine's affection. He suggests a fair courtship, the better man shall win her heart. As the contest progresses, he gets to know the man behind the mask; the Phantom is no more than a lonely man named Erik. After Raoul and Erik become closer as friends, Raoul questions what he truly desires out of his life. Just when he begins to realize what he wants, outside forces get in the way those dreams. Can their friendship help them overcome the ordeals?





	1. Start of Something Good

“Phantom! I know you’re here. Show yourself!” Raoul shouted as he stood on top of the empty stage.

 

Out of nowhere, the Phantom suddenly appeared across from Raoul on the stage. He remained silent as he glared at Raoul.

 

“We have something urgent that needs to be discussed,” declared Raoul.

 

The Phantom scoffed, “And what matter might that be?”

 

“The courting of Christine.”

 

“You call me here in the dead of night to discuss that?” Disdain was apparent in the Phantom's voice.

 

“Yes. I just wanted to say, may the best man win the affections of Christine.”

 

“Why do you bother with such meaningless pleasantries?” The Phantom was confused at that point. He expected a clash of swords at least, not a display of good sportsmanship.

 

“You are my rival and I should treat you as such. That is, we are equals.”

 

“Equals? With you? Don't make me laugh, boy. You are a hundred years too early to be equals with me.”

 

Raoul shrugged his shoulders as he replied, “Believe what you will, but I believe that we are equals. That is why I want this to be a fair contest, no underhanded tricks, no blackmail, no manipulation.”

 

The Phantom laughed at those naive words, loud and mocking. He responded, “What is to stop me from using those underhanded tricks you so kindly mentioned when you adhere to your self imposed rules?”

 

“We are more alike than you think, ‘Angel of Music.’ We are both men of pride. You could cheat and you might win her heart that way. However, I would know and I'd let you get away with it. And do you know why? It is because you will have to live with the fact that I am the better man, for you could not beat me in a fair fight, for the rest of your life. I know that will never satisfy you. You must thoroughly defeat your opponent for it to truly count as a victory. Anything else would be meaningless.”

 

The Phantom stared at Raoul in stunned silence. He never expected the boy to be so bold. Recovering from his initial shock, he retorted, “A wager for Christine then? I believe the game is on.”

 

“No, you've got it all wrong. Christine’s heart is not a prize to be won.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

“Love and trust are things you have to earn. They aren't things you can just take when you feel the fancy. There will always be the chance that Christine will not return our feelings, but that too is a part of courtship.”

 

“How naive of you to think like that. The world is not so kind. Those ideals of yours will never survive in these harsh realities. The strong take what is theirs by might.”

 

“Again, believe what you will. I will do what I believe to be right.” Raoul took a step closer to the Phantom. As he extended his hand out for a handshake, he asked, “So, do we have an agreement that we shall court Christine fairly and respect her choice, even if she should choose neither of us?”

 

The Phantom found himself firmly shaking Raoul’s hand. What Raoul spoke was the truth, he would find a victory meaningless if there was doubt on whether he truly was the better of the two. He replied, “I agree.” With that he released Raoul’s hand and blended into the darkness.

 

Once he reached his underground home, the Phantom muttered, “Interesting.” He made a plan to follow Raoul around tomorrow. If he was to win this contest fairly, he must first understand his opponent.

 

…

 

The next day, Raoul sat at his desk in the theater, going over the account book of the theater. As he made notes of what to improve on, Raoul had a constant feeling of being watched, which sent a shiver up his spine.

 

Setting down his fountain pen, Raoul let out a sigh and said, “Phantom, I know you're there. No use hiding.”

 

He heard a familiar voice behind one of the panels reply, “Last I recall, watching you isn't against the rules.”

 

“It's not. However, there's a chair right here that's more comfortable than standing in a wall if you plan on watching me all day.”

 

The Phantom slid out of a hidden panel in a wall and took a seat in the chair Raoul mentioned. He commented, “You are an odd one. Most people would tell me to go away. Not invite me to take a seat.”

 

Raoul returned to his work as he replied, “Well, I'm used to never having any privacy thanks to all the tutors, so you can watch me all you want, though I must warn you. I'm not doing anything terribly exciting.”

 

“If you're fine with me observing you, why invite me to sit down? It makes no difference where I am.”

 

“You're quite talkative for someone who claims to be a ghost. And to answer your question. The thought that someone is following me like a stalker leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

 

“For a vicomte, you are quite careless. Turning your back to a stranger is a death wish.”

 

“That may be true. However, you are no stranger. And I know you won’t kill me.”

 

“That naivety will never cease to amaze me.” The Phantom did not say another word, settling for observing Raoul scribbling away into his notebook.

 

The room was silent, save for the sound of pen scratching paper. For a while, both men remained that way.

 

Without looking up, Raoul said, “If you want to ask me something, just say it. You staring that intently is going to bore a hole in my skull.”

 

“How can you be so confident that I will follow your rules?”

 

Raoul looked up at the Phantom as he replied, “You can’t be that bad of a person. After all, Christine trusts you.”

 

“If that is your standard to judge people’s intentions, I am sad to say, it is very unreliable.”

 

“It works for me. Now, you've asked your question, so it's my turn. Do you really live in the opera house like the rumors say?”

 

“I live under it.” The Phantom replied blankly.

 

Raoul waited for a moment, expecting the Phantom to give more details but nothing more was said. He sighed as he said, “Guess you're not that much of a talker now. There goes my plan to have a meaningful conversation while I do all this dreary paperwork.”

 

“Don't give me attitude. It's not my fault you're miserable from all the paperwork.”

 

“Oh, I'm not miserable, just frustrated by the fact I'm surrounded by incompetent people.”

 

The Phantom grunted in affirmation as he said, “You don't have to tell me. I already know. It's the reason why this opera house is degrading. If they keep it up, it'll probably burn to the ground.”

 

Raoul groaned as he circled a few numbers in the notebook. He complained, “Half of the budget goes to Carlotta and her ridiculous demands. Why do the managers keep her when she is mediocre at best! I mean, Christine has already proven herself to be the far superior singer. Ugh, I don't get it. I wish Carlotta would just get a frog in her throat for the rest of her life and remain offstage.”

 

“Maybe I can help with that,” mumbled the Phantom.

 

“Really?” Raoul raised his head up from the notebook and looked at the Phantom. His voice was hopeful as he said, “You would help me?”

 

“Don't fool yourself. I'm not doing this for you. Carlotta offends my ears much more than yours. I shall get rid of her by the end of this week. Mark my words.”

 

“I shall look forward to it.” Raoul had a slight smile on his lips.


	2. Ventriloquism

Raoul wondered what the Phantom’s plan to get rid of Carlotta was. Turned out, he didn't have to wait long for the plan was already in motion.

 

The day after talking with the Phantom, Raoul heard a commotion coming from the dressing room. He rushed there and found Carlotta screaming, “How dare he! The scoundrel must be found and hung!”

 

Raoul asked, “What is the matter?”

 

Instead of getting a reply, Carlotta just threw the paper in his face.

 

Raoul straightened out the paper and read it aloud, “Carlotta, your voice offends the Heavens itself. If you sing upon the stage tomorrow night, a terrible curse shall befall you. -O.G.”

 

One of the choir girls shrieked out, “It’s from the Opera Ghost!”

 

Raoul chuckled to himself. The threatening letter struck him as rather juvenile.

 

However, Carlotta didn’t find it as funny as she continued to scream, “Find him! Burn the ghost!”

 

Shaking his head, Raoul left the room. He had enough theatrics from her for one day, though her reactions for kind of amusing.

 

On the way back to his office, Raoul bumped into Christine.

 

Christine apologized, “Sorry, Raoul. Did you hear about the threatening letter that was sent?”

 

“Yeah, I saw it. Nothing to worry about. Unless you believe in witchcraft in this day and age.” He sightly chuckled to himself.

 

“Raoul, I’m serious.” A frown started to appear on her face.

 

“I know. I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

 

“Thanks for that. I’m just worried, that’s all.”

 

“You don’t have to worry. I will protect you if anything happens.”

 

Christine hugged Raoul as she said, “That means a lot me.” She left.

 

Raoul returned to his office and plopped back down into his chair. He called out, “That was a bit theatrical, don’t you think?”

 

The Phantom slid out of his spot in the wall and took the seat opposite of Raoul. He answered, “I am the Phantom of the Opera for a reason. Theatrics is a part of my nature.”

 

“I don’t think being creepy and hiding under the opera is good theatrics.”

 

“I think it gives me a certain sense of mystery. I think you would agree as well, vicomte.”

 

“A curse though? I didn’t take you for someone so medieval.”

 

“It makes for a good show.” The Phantom disappeared into the shadows.

 

The day of the show arrived. Raoul sat in box number 5. The curtains raised.

 

Carlotta was about sing, but all that came out was a croaking noise. She cleared her throat and tried to sing again, but the croaking continued.

 

Raoul laughed to himself in his seat, thankful that he was in a private box. So that was the curse the Phantom mentioned. It was rather childish for someone who tried to act so serious.

 

…

 

Erik hid behind one of the trapdoors underneath the stage. He had a perfect view of Carlotta’s mouth. The moment she opened her mouth, he croaked aloud, drowning out her voice. Every time she tried to sing, he would mask her voice with his croaking.

 

After Carlotta was carried off stage, Erik looked at the audience. Most of the crowd had expressions of shocked horror on their faces. His eyes lingered on box 5, his box. He saw Raoul there, laughing for some strange reason.

 

With his role in the performance over, Erik returned back to his hidden passageway. He pondered for a moment about where to go next. Before he realized it, his feet was already taking him on the path to Raoul’s office.

 

Erik hid behind the panel, deciding whether to wait for Raoul or to just return back home. However, he didn’t have to decide when he heard a familiar voice call out, “Phantom? Are you here?”

 

“Vicomte, I didn’t know you missed my presence that much,” said Erik as he emerged from his hiding spot.

 

“Great show by the way.” Raoul held out a glass of wine towards Erik.

 

“You trying to drug me?” However, Erik accepted the glass anyway.

 

“Only one way to find out.” Raoul held out his glass as if in a toast. He took a drink.

 

Erik took a cautious sip. There was no drugs that he could detect in it, so he decided it was safe to down the rest of the glass.

 

“Glad you enjoy it,” said Raoul. He held up a bottle he had stashed in the room. “Now let’s finish this thing.”

 

The two of them drank the whole bottle and the rest of a second. They were already starting on a third.

 

Raoul felt pleasantly buzzed as he said, “You know, why do you never call me by my name? Is Raoul really that hard to pronounce?”

 

Erik tried to form a coherent phrase in his mind, but he found that there was a nice buzz distracting him. All he could mutter was, “Feels weird.”

 

“Don’t change the subject. Also, I think you’re drunk.”

 

“Impossible. I can’t get drunk since I never drink in the first place.”

 

“I think that’s the reason why.”

 

“That’s a dumb reason.”

 

“No, it's not. Well, how did you do it?”

 

“Ventriloquism. One of my specialties besides music.” It seemed that drunk Erik had no inhibition and said the first thing that comes to mind.

 

An idea formed in Raoul’s mind. He quickly said, “Phantom, tell me your name.”

 

“Erik,” Erik replied without think. He muttered afterwards, “Dammit.”

 

Raoul said, “That’s cute. So, would you be a dear and call me Raoul from now on, Erik?”

 

Erik groaned as he downed the rest of the wine in his glass and reached for the bottle but it was just out of his reach.

 

Wordlessly, Raoul handed Erik the bottle.

 

Erik accepted it. He quietly mumbled, “Thanks, Raoul.”


	3. Guest Bearing Gifts

Erik woke up to a throbbing pain in his head. As he looked around, he recognized the room as his own.

 

Holding his head in his hands, he felt the texture of the mask still on his face. It then occurred to him that he could not remember how he got home. He was in no condition last night to safely navigate through the traps in his lair.

 

Thinking about it for a moment, he vaguely recalled how he was leaning against someone. A feeling of dread spurred him out of his bed and he stumbled out of the room.

 

An unfamiliar sight greeted him. Raoul laid sprawled out on the couch, almost sliding off it. His coat was used as a blanket, but it ended up bunched up at his feet.

 

Erik covered his mouth with his hand to suppress the grin that was starting to form. The sight in front of him was just ridiculous.

 

However, it was in futile as Raoul chose that moment to wake up. He mumbled, “What time is it?”

 

Erik coldly replied, “There’s a clock.”

 

“Yeah, but it still doesn’t tell me if it’s morning or night. So, if it’s still night, you better have a good explanation for waking me.”

 

“You woke up on your own, so that’s not my fault.”

 

“Well, you’re in the same room, so I blame you.”

 

“Correlation is not causation.”

 

Raoul just turned back over into the couch.

 

Erik cleared his throat as he said, “Guess that means I’m right.”

 

“No,” Raoul slightly turned his head to meet Erik’s eyes. “I’m just thinking of a witty response. Also, a thank you would be nice after I dragged your heavy butt across that lake.”

 

“I never asked you to.”

 

“Actually, you kinda did. You wanted to show me where your hypothetical ducks would go in that lake.”

 

“I didn’t-” Horror crossed his features as he remembered that drunken outburst from the previous night. Erik had gone on a tirade about how his home was so empty then the idea of getting ducks popped into mind and so he dragged Raoul here to show where they would go. Holding his head once more, he groaned to himself.

 

A quiet snicker echoed across the room. Raoul was trying to hold back his laughter.

 

Erik had been so deep in thought that he didn’t notice Raoul turning around to stare at him.

 

Raoul got up and slowly stretched. He said, “Well, I’d like to say it was a pleasant stay, but sleeping on this sofa is worse than rocks. Trust me, I know how that feels first hand.” He put on his crumpled coat and continued, “Time to brave your traps and return to the world of the living.”

 

“Good rid-” started Erik. Before he could finish that sentence, a voice in his head echoed,  _ One good turn deserves another. _ It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he heard it. Letting out a resigned sigh, he said, “Wait. Stay for a bit.”

 

A surprised expression crossed over Raoul’s expression as he said, “Really? I thought you wanted me gone as soon as possible.”

 

“I hate to admit this, but I do owe you for bringing me back here last night. And I hate being indebted to others. So, I’ll make you food and then guide you out of here. We can then pretend none of this ever happened and move on.”

 

“Food would be nice.”

 

They chatted for a bit as Erik slapped something together with whatever he found in his pantry.

 

Since Erik didn’t have a dining table, they sat back on the sofa and balanced the plates on their laps. Turned out, Erik was a pretty decent cook. 

 

Raoul looked around the room as they ate. His eyes stopped at the stuffed monkey with cymbals. He asked, “What is that?”

 

Erik replied, “Something I made as a reminder of my time in Persia.”

 

“You’ve been to Persia?”

 

“Yeah, as well as a few other places.”

 

“Wow, I’m kind of jealous. You got to see more of the world than I ever did. I never got any further than the borders of France.”

 

“Really? You seem rather well informed of the world.”

 

“Only from what I read in books. What of you? Do you have any books you like in particular?”

 

“No. I fear literature is far from my area of expertise.”

 

“Well, that simply won’t do.” Raoul made up his mind as he said, “I am going to bring you a few of my favorite books and you’re going to read them.”

 

Erik looked at Raoul oddly, as if he had grown a third eye.

 

Once they finished their meal, they made their way to the surface. 

 

When they finally saw the familiar walls of the opera house again, Raoul turned to Erik and said in a falsetto, “Thank you ever so much for being a gentleman and escorting me back safe and sound. It is not proper for a young woman such as myself to wander alone.” He pretended to fan himself with an imaginary fan.

 

Rolling his eyes, Erik retorted, “Your acting is terrible. Also, this is never going to happen again.”

 

“The getting drunk and talking about ducks?”

 

“No. My home is not welcome to you.” Erik turned around and started to walk away.

 

Raoul called out, “We’ll have to see about that!”

 

Once he returned home, Erik spent the rest of the day in silence, nursing the horrendous hangover that accumulated from all that drinking.

 

The next day, Erik found that he could hear himself think without the constant throb. He sat at his organ, planning on composing music, but nothing could come to mind. An hour had passed and all he had managed to accomplish was twirl his pen around a hundred times.

 

Erik heard the creaking of wood behind him. He reached for the rapier he left close by in case of any intruders.

 

A familiar voice called out, “Hey, Erik. I brought the books I promised you.” Raoul dropped a bundle of books into the couch.

 

Releasing his grip on the sword, Erik scowled at Raoul as he responded, “I thought I told you to never come back here.”

 

“Then you really should get locks on these doors. Besides, I have a promise to keep. I am a man of my word after all.” Raoul gave Erik a mischievous smile. “Besides, you hogging this place to yourself seems hardly fair.”

 

“This is my home and you’re intruding.”

 

“Fine. I know when I’m not welcome.” Raoul crossed his arms over his chest, but made no attempt to move his legs.

 

“You’re still standing here.” Erik was starting to pout his lips.

 

“Give a man a moment to think, would you?”

 

“You can think when you get out of my house.”

 

“Is this how you treat a guest bearing gifts?”

 

“You are not a guest. You are a nuisance.”

 

“If I’m such a bother, why are you still sitting there? Shouldn’t you be trying to throw me out by now?”

 

Erik couldn’t think of a reply to that, so he kept his mouth shut.

 

Raoul grinned cheekily as he said, “See? I knew you like keeping me around.” Above them, they heard a shriek from the direction of the stage. It sounded like someone screaming ‘lizard’. “The managers are giving me a headache with their inability to run things. I’ll be back after I deal with their penchant for melodrama. I expect you to pick a book by then.”

 

Erik groaned, “You’re coming back?”

 

“Of course. You can’t keep me away. That I promise you.”


End file.
